


Teacup Philosopher

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Baking, Cookies, Dessert & Sweets, Fluff and Crack, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "You've eaten frog before?" He's genuinely curious. It might be useful knowledge when he becomes a fugitive, running away from the clutches of Lucian Law. There's still a possibility the poison is slow acting, after all. If pampered, weak-stomached Noctis survived eating frog, he could too."I have now."





	

**Author's Note:**

> shrug emojis into the distance

They looks damn near inedible next to Ignis'. Next to Iris' they look slightly more passable, but still very much embarrassing. He doesn't know why, when Ignis guided him with laser pointer precision-- scrutinising every gram measured, glaring down every flick of his wrists. Hell, Iris went out of it with comparably less micromanaging and flour exploding in her face, and yet, her cookies look like actual _cookies_ and not something that looks like it came out of His Highness' toddler days sketchbook.

"Oniichan," Iris asks. "What's this?"

Cruelly innocent, a question not laced with snide. It makes Gladio feel even _worse_.

"A frog..." he says, shame channeled into glaring at the wall across them.

"Humm..." Iris turns the cookie around, inspecting it from every angle-- high above her head, low where the sunlight streams, at arm's length, barely a hair's breadth to the tip of her nose. "Can't see it," she finally concludes.

"Me neither," chimes Ignis helpfully, stacking the mixing bowls on the counter.

"I hate you both."

\-------

"Can't see it," Gladio hears for the second time today. Noctis is sitting on his bed, three little basket of cookies lined with colourful kerchiefs on his lap. They bounce, just a bit, with every little swing of his legs. He pops it into his mouth, though, and Gladio takes in the comfort that he didn't instantly kill the crown prince by accident.

_'16, the oldest son of the Amicitias sent to death's lane for assassination of Prince Noctis'_

He will go down in history as the young man who singlehandedly brought the kingdom down with all but a lone failed cooking attempt. The Amicitias will be exiled to some far off island, his dad would start a galura farm, Iris would disown the rabbit plush he got her for her birthday.

"Tastes more like a frog than it looks like one, at least." Noctis scrunches his nose.

"You've eaten frog before?" He's genuinely curious. It might be useful knowledge when he becomes a fugitive, running away from the clutches of Lucian Law. There's still a possibility the poison is slow acting, after all. If pampered, weak-stomached Noctis survived eating frog, he could too.

"I have now."

It takes all of Gladio's will power to not hurl the remaining basket of cookies in his hand at Noctis' head.

\-------

"Oi, Iggy. Show me how to make cookies again."

\-------

" _Oniichannnn,_ " Iris whines. "How much more are you going to make?"

Watching the oven like a hawk, Gladio squats in front of it unmoving, counting every tick of the timer. "Until I can get it right."

"I would be as big as you by the time I eat all your failed ones!"

"You're saying like that's a bad thing. You need to grow, anyways." Dry, flippant, his tone as interesting as the slowly rising spongecake inside the tin.

Iris drops her face onto the table with a loud smack and an even louder groan. "I quit. I don't want to taste test anymore."

"Don't you want to make Noct happy?"

"He'd be happier not eating your cooking." Gladio hears her voice, muffled by the table's surface.

\------

"I can't disagree with her," Ignis says, looking down at his roll cake with such contempt, as if it personally wronged him.

It might as well has, considering it was birthed from his recipe.

"Why are you guys like this."

\---------

"Hey, maybe if I sleep with you I'll absorb your baking skills through osmosis."

Gladio couldn't say he didn't expect the door slammed in his face.

\--------

"Oh, this one actually tastes like something!" Noctis says, eyes wide with surprise, cookie crumbs on his cheeks.

"Yeah?" Gladio asks, excited. He feels a phantom tail wagging behind him.

"Yeah! Like less of a disappointment!"

His phantom ears droops slightly, but he's not complaining. It's not _terrible._

\-------

"Acceptable."

That's at least comparable to when Noctis manages to step on his feet when sparring, right?

\-------

"Oh, I like this one."

Milk pudding, this time. Ignis thinks the problem might have been the oven refusing to bestow its holy powers upon him and decided to let Gladio have a whack at using a steamer. It's a small victory he'll take to world's end and back, pick up Iris and twirl her in the air, nuzzling her cheek. _'Hey, you know what? Oniichan made Noct something edible! Aren't I incredible?'_

\-------

"I'm not refusing or anything," Noctis says over tea, a rose shaped steamed cake on a plate next to his cup. "You're getting better! But why...?"

"Iris." Gladio grunts.

Noctis tilts his head to one side, confused.

"You helped her that one time, so I thought..." he looks away, scratching his cheek, hopes that it isn't bright, bright red.

"Ah." Noctis says. " _Ah._ " He gingerly picks up the cake, smiles as he bites into it.

Gladio feels like his heart might have burst, a rhythmic patter against his chest, a wisp of air caught in his throat.

\-------

"It's been a while since I had this." Thirteen years later, and Gladio has bragging rights for not sending the Noctis to the hospital wing with his cooking even once.

Ignis can frankly shut up about it not being a real achievement.

"The hotel kitchenette has a steamer so I thought..." Seeing Iris in Lestallum made him remember all the prototypes he had her eat. It made him feel just a tad melancholic. Oh, how he longs for the days when the only thing that was a handful about his sister is that he can actually pick her up with his hands.

Noctis tries to hide his smile behind the cake, taking a small nibble. They both look away, towards opposite walls, keeps the pretence casual idleness between them. It's audible, unsettlingly loud, when Noctis swallows. Maybe Gladio is just feeling a little too self-conscious. 

"I was just craving them, too. Thanks, Gladio."

"I'll make them anytime you ask." He coughs, uncomfortable.

And Noctis-- Noctis has the gall to laugh, loose and open. Gladio stares, dumbstruck, even as his laughter bubbles down to soft giggles.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he says over a quiet smile.


End file.
